


Beneath the Trees, Where Nobody Sees

by ncfan



Series: Prince Caspian (Film): Missing Scenes and Other Things [3]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies), Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Anger, Canon Expansion, Consent Issues, Family, Gen, Irresponsible Gods, Sister-Sister Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-29 09:25:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/685390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ncfan/pseuds/ncfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Why do you think I didn't see Aslan?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beneath the Trees, Where Nobody Sees

**Author's Note:**

> Something I really liked about Prince Caspian (the movie) was the sense of solidarity that seemed to exist between Lucy and Susan, a sense of solidarity that I would argue most definitely is not visible in the books. Their relationship is much closer and not nearly so fractious; you actually get the sense that there's a bond between these two sisters. Thus, comes this.

Ship.

Hammer.

Leopard.

Lucy counted the stars, traced the constellations with her eager blue eyes. Shapes sprung out to her, that of the sailing ship, the strong hammer, the graceful, pouncing leopard. The stars of Narnia, great blue, white, yellow, red shapes that they were, were larger than those of Earth. They were closer to the land here, and shone more brightly and beautifully than any star that could be seen from the ground of the Earth.

 _How could I ever be enamored of the constellations of Earth?_ Lucy wondered, as she lied on her back in the lush, sweet-smelling grass, the light from the fire starting to burn low rippling across her skin. _How could I ever believe that any of the stars of Earth could be this beautiful? Even through clouds these stars shine brightly; it takes naught but a thin film of cloud or smoke or smog on Earth to obscure the stars there entirely. There is truly no comparison…_

Lucy changed her opinion of what the best thing about being back in Narnia was probably about every five minutes. Right now, however, every conflicting part of her was in accord: seeing the stars of Narnia again had to be the best thing about being back. _Now,_ she mused to herself broodingly, _if I could just get everyone to believe that I saw Aslan…_

"Lucy… Are you awake?"

That soft whisper did little to draw Lucy out of her reverie. The others must have been asleep, for Susan's whisper not to have woken them. As it was, a soft, pensive "Hmm" was all Susan got in the way of response out of her sister, who was thinking of golden fur.

The grass rustled beside her as Susan propped herself up on her side. "Why do you think I didn't see Aslan?" she asked.

Now, _that_ question did get Lucy's attention, as did the tone Susan used when she said it. It was a tone Lucy had come to know well over the years: Susan trying to mask her dejection with an even voice and measured words, but not quite able to hide the melancholy seeping in through the cracks in her words. Frankly, Susan's tone almost caught Lucy's attention more than the words themselves.

Lucy rolled over and propped herself up on her side as well, staring into her sister's face. _And there is the face to match the tone_ , she registers briefly. Susan's expression was mostly stoic, but her eyes glinted a touch too brightly and her mouth was set very tight. "You believe me?" Lucy half-whispers, both exuberant and indignant. Here, she realized, was proof for Peter, Edmund and Trumpkin that she wasn't seeing things, for her brothers both listened to Susan and surely Trumpkin wouldn't be able to hold on to his skepticism if everyone else was saying that they had seen Aslan.

But at the same time, Lucy felt indignation unfurl in her chest like a lick of flame from the fire crackling in front of them. _If you saw Aslan too, then why didn't you say anything before now? Why did you let Peter talk down to me? Why didn't you help me?_

Susan shrugged, staring down at the ground and running furls in the grass with her finger. "Well, we got across the gorge." Her voice was clear, but her tone was more than a little uncertain, and Lucy couldn't help but think that that wasn't much of an answer.

"I… I don't know." Lucy couldn't quite meet her sister's gaze as she hesitantly added, "Maybe you didn't really want to."

Lucy immediately knew that wasn't the thing to say, if not from Susan's exasperated glower than by the way her mouth contorted, as though she was about to cry. "Sorry," Lucy muttered with a grimace, shifting her shoulders uncomfortably. Yes, that had definitely _not_ been the thing to say to Susan, Lucy could see in hindsight. What she couldn't see was how she had ever thought that would be anything but hurtful. _Sorry_ , she said again mentally, flushed with shame. _I didn't think… You know I often don't think, Susan…_

Her sister sighed heavily and settled back down on the grass, staring upwards with an unreadable expression on her face. She stayed silent for a long time, in which Lucy stared down at her, trying to make sense of those hard eyes and that furrowed brow. "I _did_ want to see him," Susan asserted, and now, in place of uncertainty, in her low voice was frustration, even anger.

Though she did not like the spark of that anger or where it might lead, when Lucy's lips quirked, they did so in sympathy. "I know, Susan. We all do."

Susan tossed her head crossly. "It's… It's just… _galling_." She hadn't bothered to keep her voice low this time, and Lucy shushed her; Peter had tossed in his sleep at the word 'galling' and Lucy suspected that if Peter woke up, the conversation that followed would not be a civil one. _Peter never did like being woken up out of a dead sleep. And_ of course _Edmund didn't even twitch._ It didn't occur to her that Trumpkin wasn't snoring anymore.

"We were Kings and Queens of Narnia for fifteen years," Susan hissed. Her shoulders were stiff and the muscles in her arms seemed to grow rigid beneath her sleeves. "In all that time, not once did Aslan ever give us so much as a word of advice on how to rule. We had to 'muddle through'," she remarked bitterly. 'Muddle through' had been a phrase Peter often used in the early days of their reign, when everything was still horribly difficult and uncertain and they weren't sure how to rule an entire country without everything falling to pieces on them. "We were lucky that all of Narnia didn't burn in the earliest years of our reign, lucky that there were wise creatures among our subjects and that Lune saw us as young monarchs in need of guidance, not the child rulers of an easily conquered country.

"Then, we were drawn out of Narnia again. We stumbled out of Narnia, as it happens. I'm _not_ blaming that on Aslan, Lucy," Susan cut her off before Lucy could reprimand her for speaking against Aslan. "If I were to blame everything that goes wrong in my life on Aslan, I think I would be a very miserable woman indeed. We stumbled out of Narnia, and then Aslan dragged us back.

"That's just it, he _dragged_ us back, without even asking if we wanted to go back. I'm happy to be here. I don't think you can imagine how happy I am, Lu."

_Oh, I can imagine._

"But that's magic," Susan commented bitterly. "It pays absolutely no attention to what you've agreed to and what you haven't, and on the off chance that it does notice, it has no respect for your choices. Aslan called us back. But he didn't call us back to the Narnia we remembered. He called us back more than a thousand years into the future here. Everyone we ever knew and loved is dead and gone. And what's more, the Telmarines took our absence for all it was worth and have invaded our land and forced our people into hiding. Why," she whispered, her voice trembling with a rage Lucy so rarely heard, "didn't he call us back to a time before the Telmarines invaded Narnia? For that matter, _where_ _was Aslan_ whenthe Telmarines invaded his kingdom? Where was he when his people were being killed and forced back into a shrinking forest?"

"He's not a tame Lion, Susan," Lucy scolded her. "I'm sure he has his reasons." But her voice was weak, and she looked away.

Susan wasn't the only one who had been asking herself these questions. Lucy loved and respected Aslan; she did not look kindly on any implication that he might be anything less than… Than… Well, Lucy did not look kindly on any insults made against Aslan. But at times like this, his mind was even more impossible to know than it normally was. At times like this, Lucy couldn't help but wonder: What was Aslan thinking? Why hadn't he come to the aid of his people? Why had he let the Telmarines desecrate the land? Why had he let the Telmarines press his people to the very brink?

"'Not a tame Lion'." There was a laugh in Susan's voice, Lucy was startled to realize. She stared, wide-eyed, at her sister, words frozen in her throat. "Oh, I know that, Lucy. Believe me, I do. And that's exactly why Aslan ought to have done something before now. Because a Lion who is not tame would not have simply rolled over and surrendered when an invasion force landed on the shores of his country. Because I don't understand why he let this happen."

"Susan…"

"Good night, Lucy," Susan said quietly. She rolled over onto her side, and was silent.

After a moment, Lucy did the same.

-0-0-0-

Lucy awoke after a dream of Aslan, a dream she was sure had been more than a dream; how could it have been a dream, when his fur was so soft and warm and sweet-smelling? How could it have been a dream, when she could hear his voice so clearly in the air. No, it had to have been a vision of some sort, drawing her onwards.

The morning was gray and wan; the fire had completely burned down. Lucy felt sore and stiff from lying on the ground all night (even with the springy Narnian turf, the ground was still quite hard and uneven), her neck and shoulders aching, but she still sprang to her feet speedily, intent on going off in search of Aslan.

_Wait._

She spared a moment, crouching down by Susan and shaking her sister's shoulder. "Susan," she hissed urgently. "Wake up."

Susan rolled over in her sleep, eyes still screwed shut. "Certainly, Lu," she slurred, still deep asleep. "Whenever you like."

Lucy shook her head, resisting the urge to keep shaking Susan until she woke up—if she did that, Susan would just be very cranky when she awoke, and probably wouldn't agree to help Lucy in any regard. _I'll just have to do it on my own._

Aslan was out there somewhere. Nearby, Lucy felt like. She was going to find him. She was going to find him, and make him come back here, so Susan and everyone else would be able to see him. So Susan could see that he was still here, that he hadn't abandoned them—that he hadn't abandoned _her_. Susan deserved that, Lucy felt like, deserved to know (even if it had to be spelled out to her in the plainest of terms) that Aslan thought of her and Narnia as more than just some pawn he could move across the chessboard at his ease.

She was going to prove that to Susan, if it was the last thing she did.


End file.
